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I ignored Ravi’s inquisitive gaze. If I had the capacity, I would have frozen my skin to keep the heat from rising. Cam was talking to his mother about me? My imagination went wild wondering how that conversation went.

Cam, darling, I want to invite your little employee to a pity tea.

Why? She’s just a gold-digging harpy.

“Oh, I’d be happy to set something up,” I said.

“Fabulous.” Nessa beamed, then looked between us again, considering. “I see we aren’t the only ones who like Ti Amo for date night.” She gestured behind her, where Shep was seated at another table, his attention on us.

When our eyes met, his face took on an approving cast—an expression I’d never seen directed at me. I pulled my gaze from him to smile at Nessa. “Yes. Unfortunately, Ravi’s fiancée is delayed at work, so we are consoling ourselves with wine.”

A puzzling hint of satisfaction gleamed in her expression. “A terrible fate, to be sure. I’ll leave you kids to it.”

We murmured our goodbyes, and Ravi stared after her, suspicious.

“What is it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I’m just trying to figure out why that felt like an exam we only barely passed.”

I gave him a demure, teasing smile. “I don’t know what that feels like.”

Ravi threw a diced tomato at me. “Show-off.”

Giggling, I ducked to avoid the second one.

He popped the third piece into his mouth. “Tell me what had you scrubbing my baseboards yesterday.”

My spirits sank. “They rejected my idea.”

“I figured.”

I looked up sharply. “Why? Did you think it was a bad idea?”

“Of course it wasn’t. But it was your idea.”

Bristling, I glared at him.

“You’re the new girl. I’m sure they felt they needed to put you in your place. It didn’t matter how good the idea was, you were bound to be rejected out of the gate.”

I took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Why did he hire me if he was just going to reject me? It was a fantastic idea, and he told me we’d ‘think’ about it. Perfect it. Whatever that means.”

“Sounds like he wanted to think about it.”

I ignored him. “Then his stupid dad called me a trashy, gold-digging harpy. Behind my back, of course. He’s far too sophisticated to say it to my face.”

Ravi looked appalled. “Wow, that’s⁠—”

I leaned forward, spearing Ravi with all the anger that had built since the meeting yesterday, even though he didn’t deserve it. “And Cam defended me. Who is Cam Shepherd to suddenly declare I’m not trash? He didn’t know me then, and he doesn’t know me now. He’s just a pretty, judgmental rich boy. And apparently sexist, too, if that ad is anything to go by.”

“Wait. He defended you?”

“Sort of.” I drank my wine.

“And that”—Ravi gestured toward my scowling face—“makes you mad?”

“Yes!”

He crossed his arms, studying me without blinking. “Why?”